November Rain
by Never Stop Believing in Love
Summary: A little piece of Boyd and Grace angst.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC**

**Content: Boyd and Grace **

**Rating k **

**Hey everyone. This is nothing more than a little piece of angst! Thanks for taking the time to read it – as always it is very much appreciated. Very special hugs and thanks to my lovely supportive friends. xx**

**November Rain**

The cold November rain drove incessantly into Peter Boyd as silently he walked alone through the deserted streets of London. He pulled in annoyance at the collar of his heavy overcoat ostensibly oblivious to how wet and how cold he was as he continued to mindlessly put one foot in front of the other aimlessly walking. The grey pavements reflected the night sky as the street lights danced on the puddles beneath his feet. He had to get out. Needed to put some distance between him and Grace. He hadn't thought, just left, the desire for air and the craving to quiet the noise escalating inside his head overwhelming. Endless words still echoed loudly in his ears. Words dripping with bitterness and pain. He sighed heavily as her image cascaded through his mind. They had argued before, hell they spent most of their lives arguing, but this felt different.

Little by little they had been chipping away at the others resolve. Little by little they had been slowly but systematically killing one another. The perpetual vicious circle - fight and make up, fight and make up. For years they had fooled themselves into believing that the making up was worth the fight. No one could deny that they were good at it. But lately, independently, they both had drawn the same heart-breaking conclusion. Increasingly they become aware that their words were more and more cruel and destructive as they discovered the others weaknesses. Rather than steering to avoid the exposed nerve in order to save the other pain they frequently challenged and went straight for the jugular. It was about drawing first blood and they were also very good at that. To the outsider who watched in horror it was brutal, to those who knew them well it was simply Boyd and Grace. Yet tonight, both he and Grace knew they had gone too far this time, even for them.

Boyd swallowed hard choking back the fear that had rose swiftly from the pit of his stomach and had now wrapped itself unrelentingly around his throat in a sickeningly strangulated hold. This time, his mind taunted him mercilessly, this time, he wasn't sure that there was any way back. Somehow, without warning, they had found themselves standing on the edge of a precipice, one more step and they fell. Except tonight, he had pushed her.

He had seen the tears in her eyes as the vehement words he spat from his lips resounded around their living room landing with such force they shook her to the core. He watched them tear and rip at her heart. He had wanted to hurt her. For that one brief frenzied moment his anger reigned supreme, rising up like a black tidal wave from the ugly recesses he kept locked deep within him and destructively crashing down upon her. He wanted her to feel pain, the same pain that he carried oppressively every day. In that unrestrained moment he wanted to pierce her heart with such ferocity that it bled and he had. God help him, he had. Her deep blue eyes clouded instantly as she physically recoiled under the weight and intensity of his words. He saw her soul sink, swamped by the pain caustically eroding it. Pain he had caused. Hurt, sorrow, loss, confusion, and fear all bellowed from her depths finding an outlet through her eyes as she stood silently in front of him. She seemed so small, so very fragile as he towered ominously over her in all his destructive fury. His beautiful, gentle Grace lost in a tide of anger and desolation.

She had wanted to speak, wanted to yell back in retaliation and defence, but words refused to form. Not tonight. Nothing she could say could be a match for him tonight. Her body reeled at the hatred she saw blaze transitorily within his eyes. He wasn't in control, not fully. Momentarily he was lost to her - lost to the world, as he stood alone in a midst of red. She knew she had pushed him far beyond the limit that was safe, but even she was shocked at the callous and vicious words he had blistered her way. She was fully aware what he was capable of. She, more than anyone, knew the damage he could do; she just never dreamed he would go there with her.

Realisation had come much too late for Boyd, the tempest lifting long enough to hurtle him back from the black shadows in time to observe the emotional torment flash across Grace's features. His heart broke. Swift and heavily it sank within him. He knew immediately what he had done; he could see clearly how much he had hurt her. Her delicate features were now crumpled and bearing the scars of the words he had bestowed upon her. He swallowed hard trying to hold down the bile that burnt and scorched his entrails as it made its poisonous journey through his body. Slowly he regained control long enough to reach out to her.

"Grace, I'm so sorry." He whispered.

But she turned away.

It was too early for apologies; she wasn't ready to hear them yet. She closed her eyes against the pain as her thoughts came thundering down around her bringing with them a devastating heartache.

Maybe it's not too early...maybe it's too late.

Boyd's heart lurched as she pulled away unable to meet his gaze. He had done what he always inevitably ended up doing. He pushed anyone who loved him away until they could no longer bear it and they left him once again isolated and unloved. Surely not Grace. Even he couldn't believe that he was doing the same thing to her. His mind was screaming at him. _You can't lose Grace_. And yet he stood completely helpless in the wake and control of whatever self-destructive force lived deep within him.

He had to get out, put space between them. He couldn't bear to look at her knowing the hurt he had caused. He left without uttering another word and Grace let him. She didn't turn around, didn't try to stop him or ask him to stay. Instead she listened as the front door closed and he walked gravely into the rainy night.

She knew he didn't mean it, he never did, but how far could she be pushed before she finally had enough. Was this her breaking point? Years upon years of endless arguments one by one assaulted her memory, coming back in shattered pieces each one more vicious and painful than the one before. Her throat ached and bristled against the lump that steadfastly refused to move. Her eyes burned red with unshed tears, pooling like acid in her dark sapphire orbs. He was the only person that could make her feel like this. The one she loved above anyone or anything else held the power to leave her so utterly broken, desolate and alone.

He had shut her out, locked himself away in a place where he forbade anyone to enter, even her. She knew that place was his own private hell, a place where demons and vultures picked ruthlessly away at his exposed soul leaving agonising, weeping wounds that he solemnly refused to acknowledge or allow to heal. He felt pain. She could see it etched deep into his face like a carving into wood, a mark for eternity of everything that was haunting him. But he set his face like stone. Stubbornly he had pushed his shoulders back almost taunting the demons to torment him more, refusing to surrender to their endless torture and accepting that this was his deserved fate, a penance for all his failures. He felt unworthy of forgiveness, he was a man possessed by the ghosts of his past that constantly loomed within reminding him of everything he had lost and the undeniable part he had played in his own destruction. Boyd had paid a high price for his mistakes and he continued to pay but he would never back down or cower away from the pain and heartache that embraced him. Instead he let it devour and ravish his mind as it poured out its disparaging agony upon him. He couldn't see what she saw; he would never allow himself to see the man who stood before her. A man who by every account was broken and bruised by the hand that life had dealt him but who still deserved to be forgiven and loved. He couldn't understand why she wanted him or wasted her time being with him. No, he could never see what she saw.

Before her stood a strong, just, loyal, passionate man who needed to be released from the guilt that held him bound in tight chains. She saw him, the man she loved and shared her life with, watched as he struggled and fought ruthlessly, bravely, against the darkness that embraced him, and she wanted to reach him. She thought she could help him, thought that her love would have been enough to help ease his pain and bring healing, but now she doubted. She knew that she had failed him. Her strength had long since waned. She was tired. Tired of the constant fighting and tired of the personal battle that raged inside of him exploding in moods as black as the night. How far could he push? How much could she take? Did she still love him? It was a question she asked herself time and time again and which tonight lay unanswered.

Still the rain fell incessantly and the cold icy wind chilled his blood but he continued walking. He internally winced as his mind was swamped once again with endless clattering and noise. Arguments which had long since passed smashed violently against his skull. Surely Grace had finally seen him for the unlovable monster he was.

Somehow he found himself back standing outside the modest semi-detached house they shared. He had no idea how long he had been walking, but was sure it had been hours rather than minutes. Tentatively he turned the key and pushed against the door as it opened. He walked hesitantly through the darkened hallway which was illuminated only by the soft lamp light escaping the confines of the living room. He followed its source and came to rest heavily in the doorway, leaning his body weighty into the frame, his forehead pressed hard against the wood as quietly watched her.

She was huddled into the corner of their couch. Curled into a tight fetal ball, her arms pulled defensively around her knees in a bid to make herself smaller, almost invisible. She was cowering like an animal trying to hide from its prey, and it broke Boyd. Water rolled slowly down his face, rain dripping and falling from the silver peaks of his hair mixed indecipherable with the salt of his tears. Complete unbridled love for this defensiveness creature cascaded his senses, his need to protect her overwhelming. He wanted to run to her, hold her in his arms until she believed that he would never again hurt her, but he knew he couldn't. It would be unwelcome and a lie. Instead he stood watching her as his tears tracked their silent path down his face.

"Grace? Grace, are you awake?" He finally asked softly.

"Yea." She replied her body unmoving.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked as he poured himself a large glass of whiskey.

"No thank you."

Boyd took a large draw from his glass relishing the burning sensation that warmed him gently as it slid easily down his throat immediately contrasting against the cold damp feeling of his clothes and skin. He refilled his glass and approached the sofa sitting carefully on the edge as far from Grace as he could be. Silence filled the cavernous space between them. Slowly she sat upright but her body remained tightly pushed into the arm of the old comfortable sofa.

"I'm sorry." He finally offered his head bowed in contrite humility.

"I know." Her quiet reply was simple but her tone spoke a thousand unsaid words.

"I didn't mean to loose ..."

"I know."

"It's just been so difficult for me lately, with Luke ..."

"It's not exactly been easy for me either Boyd."

"I'm sorry Grace." He reached for her but again she abruptly pulled away from him. Her eyes unfalteringly looking straight ahead so she didn't see the hurt echo from his dark expressive eyes.

He shrugged despondedly, his mind reeling as he whispered the question he feared the most. "So, is this it for us?"

"I honestly don't know." She replied almost inaudibly.

Boyd closed his eyes as he took a steadying breath. Her words, although anticipated, cut through his skin and penetrated straight through his heart. "I don't want to lose you Grace."

"Where do we go from here?" Her shoulders rose and fell questioningly.

"Nowhere. We stay and fight for this, for what we have."

"Don't you understand? I'm tired of all the fighting, it exhausting Boyd."

"That's not what I meant. We fight for us Grace."

"And that's what you really want?" She turned and faced him for the first time shocked to see that he was dripping wet and shivering from the cold. Instinctively she wanted to reach out to him, but she was still too hurt to relent.

"More than anything." His eyes sincerely searched hers.

"But it always ends up the same way though doesn't it?"

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"I'm just not sure anymore Boyd."

"Grace ... please ... I need you." He heard his own voice pleading with her, begging her to reconsider.

"Well you have a funny way of showing it."

"Help me then." He entreated earnestly.

"I've tried to help you but you insist on pushing me away."

"You're the last person I want to push away."

"But that's exactly what you're doing. You know, taking down your defensives and letting someone in does not make you weak Boyd."

"I let you in. You know me better than anyone."

"Yea but only so far, then you pull - or push - away."

"I'm sorry." He said sincerely.

"So am I because I'm not sure that I can do this anymore."

"Please Grace, please don't say that."

"We can't keep putting ourselves through this."

"We can work this out."

"How? How do we fix this?"

"I dunknow. But I'll do whatever it takes."

Grace observed him carefully before continuing. "Go back to anger management?" She questioned.

"Aww Grace ..." He ran his hand wearily through his hair as he let out an irritated sigh.

"Would you go back to anger management Boyd?" Her tone leaving him in no doubt that she was serious.

He breathed deeply as he considered her words. "Yes…" He answered sincerely. "…. If that's what it takes then yes I will. Whatever you want Grace." He reached out and gently took her hand running this thumb lightly over her skin. For a brief moment she enjoyed the warm and familiar feel of him beneath her fingers. It would be so easy to fall back into his arms and enjoy the intimacy that making up would bring. Determinedly, stubbornly she pulled away from him.

"I need time Boyd."

"Grace, come on, don't do this."

"I'm serious; I just need to get my head together."

"How long?"

"I dunknow. As long as it takes I suppose." She saw the fear rest in his eyes and suddenly once again before her was the vulnerable loyal man she was deeply in love with. Slowly she reached out bridging the gap between them and gently interlaced her fingers with his. Boyd stared intently at her hand, so small and delicate in comparison to his.

"I'm not abandoning you. I just need time to work out where I fit in all this." She said softly.

"You fit right beside me Grace, you always have." His eyes locked once again with hers.

"Maybe, but right now that's just too painful ... for both of us."

"I don't want to lose you ..."

"I just need some time Boyd. Can you give me that please?"

He nodded imperceptibly, his heart weighing heavily, crushing against his chest. Sighing deeply he rose wearily to his feet. He stepped towards her slowly bending down and kissing her gently. His lips lingered on hers longer than they should as painfully he was aware that this could be the last time he felt them beneath his.

"I'll wait Grace, as long as it takes and I swear I'll do whatever you want me to do to make this right again."

She smiled softly at him her hand gently caressing his face.

"I'll call you." She said quietly.

"Promise?"

"I promise." Her smile not reaching her eyes.

He rested another tender kiss on top of her forehead before walking towards the door stopping hesitantly in the doorway. He turned to face her deliberately taking in her form, wanting nothing more than to go to her, hold her, feel her next to him.

"I love you Grace."

Tears that had long ago pooled within her eyes began to fall steadily as she watched his back retreat from her and heard the door firmly close behind him as he stepped out into the cold November rain.

Fin


End file.
